You left, because you had come.
You arrived where you belonged.
Five years ago, when we first met,
I did not know we would become the best of friends.
I did not know
I would feel like this.
In the evening we said goodbye, an unnameable feeling slowly rose in my heart.
When I got home I could not hold it in anymore - and so it burst.
That feeling which suffocated me could not be described with words.
Only with tears.
I have cried many times in my life.
Every time it has been difficult.
But ever since then, well into the next morning,
I would never again be the person I was that evening.
some lives are god's intentions gone wrong
executed way beyond kindness:
dreams taken away, dismembered, thoroughly un-remembered
smiles dissected to the core, where sadness lies, falling apart in broken nights
words scrambled with silenced anger, spoken in tone of non-lovers
kisses numbed by a million thoughts dying in the mind, slipping down against low sighs
teardrops clogged in eardrums, blowing up the misery of the moment
dark moods today?
this is life, simply.
In a drop of a moment,
I am taken back
to the way I used to feel.
It makes no sense at all
to feel that way now.
(But why this heavy sadness
pressing against my chest?)
(And why these tears
falling against my will?)
Can I be me
but not this way of me?
Can I preserve memories
so that they'll never be lost
without remembering where they're stored?
To be myself - does it mean:
I must string together
all my broken pieces
to be complete?
(But can I be whole like this?)
Did I ever get what I wanted
or drown myself in thirst?
What makes me
is essentially what breaks me
without the final fatal strike.
Eventually I always return
from these tiny chaotic bursts -
perhaps once again
having altered my world
you strip and fall
upon uneven surfaces
this is the last of your dreams
before the nightmares begin,
every splash is accompanied by a silent scream.
you beg and beg to return to reality
but no mercy is ever given.
you have lost hope.
you cannot make it up
to your gods.
your voice is gone,
deep under the sea
melodies of bubbles.
i say hello to the sky, and i say goodbye
to the nights that ended on a morning like this,
with sunlight embracing the brick walls
and the winds around brown trees' arms,
together laughing and dancing.
here i quietly sing along with the rhythm of spring.
the windows finally open, for it is hard to turn away
from a brisk, beautiful day, from the wishes
of the lover who insists we shall be on our way,
taking passionate laughters towards the beaming park.
it takes longer to walk with arms around shoulders,
but the young does not care about time, does she?
she swirls in rhymes, bringing forth her own tunes of shine.
she has made me once again remember
the liveliness which follows the ache of winter.
Sun, and a very pale blue sky
I was here many sunny days before
Summer is close,
and I am afraid
I will not survive the walls of heat
closing in on us.
We bend our backs grasping for air
only to drown ourselves deeper in tears;
tears that burn
the way tomorrow burns out today.
The sun only brings me fear.
Today has burned out yesterday.
The sun is near
I'm still here.
I've got nowhere to go.
The sunrays pass by my closed eyelids
bringing me by a thousand years.
I am going through the infinite nowhere.
Will you be there?
Will you remember
the last day of light on earth
when we smiled at each other
before we no longer
belong to a reality
lit by sunlight?
Here comes the explosion
of the last fire.
I found my rat lie still,
His eyes were shut tight closed.
From above his long tail,
Smelled nothing but sorrow.
I poked him at his nose.
He did not answer me.
Like he would always do
So lively every day.
I did not really smile,
His trick was not that fun.
He thought it was so wise
To keep his heart silent.
I asked Ma where he went.
She said, "Up to heaven."
That was how she explained
My old Grandpa's absence.
He had not come back since
My Dad buried his gun.
"It is temporary,"
Is what they all tell me.
"It is the way life is,
And it always will be."
I do not want to know
About the way of life
Why can't someone tell me
Why my rat had to die?
Tonight death has come to my bed
leaning over to kiss me on my forehead.
“Your wait is over”, I hear the whisper.
Who would not surrender to something so tender?
Yet I wish what remains of life gave me enough time
To kiss you on your forehead before I die.
When you wake up in the morning,
I would have left before the birds sing.
What saddens me is not my departure;
But whether grief will leave your eyes ever.
Will you still see beauty and able to laugh
Or miss me too much you end up going daft?
Love still remains after the end of so many lives;
Nothing truly ends when something dies.
And if you ever forget me, dear, if you do,
I will already have forgiven you.
I lean to the side of the world where my wound is
burst, this is the surface of madness
You ask me what my name is
I answer you with yours.
The last of music drips onto my left arm
Leaves me cold.
A cold I do not remember.
Maybe I have not left the realm of death
where my mother comes from.
Unless today has become tomorrow
Unless your promises have come true
I will not see
I will not taste
Under the wind that swept by my nostrils
Who are you talking to?
Does he suffer from the same realization as I?
Life has left my fingertips
I no longer decipher the truth behind our words
All I do is dance.
Dance through the alphabet of the human beauty
an eternal misery.
Nothing is worth as much to me as the familiar warmth of your kisses on my eyes
bringing all the colors of life to my sight.
Nothing has the magic your hand has upon my skin
All the wounds from knowing and not knowing are healed.
Love is what I have concluded by you.
find the way we want to go
through the path of my smile sliding down your face.
Open me to the territory you have never entered yourself.
For me you will not cry.
Every moment gives birth to another.
We are children who fall in love – always at the verge of growing up
and contented with just that – lying on the sea to see
how the clouds have been here always
so we know they have never once come back.
Neither will we, but we laugh and cry, and the days and nights
open into a million stars that light up whenever I look at you,
whenever I turn away to feel you on the back of my neck.
Our tranquil jest
No need to explain any sadness - it is our friend.
Just like happiness of a glamourous day
When you take me to the cliff and we both jump
to fall upon the wide blue sky
Never have I seen anything so blue
Never have I seen anything like you
Cold and smiling and so incredibly beautiful
[we are still falling]
I really do
This place has no sympathy for your suffering.
You wonder what has taken you so long to get up and leave.
Your feet are cold, your eyes are frozen.
Even the most burning tears cannot find their way down to your heart.
The pain you know you are supposed to feel is already lost somewhere.
You cannot make out what in you remains with this world
or what is left of this world in you.
The day is over with no opened doors.
You have met the night many times before.
But this time
you no longer look forward to the possibility of a warm smile upon your shattered soul.
Thus you slowly gather your emotions
and dump them into the trash barrel next to your old lover's home
where your laughters of a shared past are replaced by those of a foreign present.
She will never know who left the bag there
or care to find out what could be in it.
Life already left you, but you are not yet touched by death.
Being trapped in between
you still detect momements of images behind your irises,
react miserably to changes in temperature,
smell the filthiness of reality under your eyebrows,
and long to meet with a certain something you have given up waiting for.
This is not what it seems to be,
but you do not know what it is.
What can you do to turn away from being nowhere and feeling only nothingness?
How can you hope for a change if nothing really changes?
Time has fixated you to this confined sensory awareness.
You are you or maybe there has been no you.
What about her? How did she get to where you were before leaving it?
Was she truly there, if thisrighthererightnow is no longer around your last breath?
i finally knew
of my world
it is only as big
as the days and nights
within the window panes
i will not dive into it
nor can i run away
from the everyday changing
let me escape
this floating scent of alcohol berries
under my throat
i wish you would
hold me down
and kiss me until my eyes bleed
you at seven in the afternoon
left me in some sort of nonsensical dream
i have learned to make myself
by sitting here
watching the night slowly
disguising the color of my skin
what is its true color will i ever know
i have given in
to the light
and the lack of it
so i could get along with time
my heart and soul
are given to you
i only need to keep this numbness
underneath my eyelids
inside the same clothing drawer
where your medicine bottles scatter
the gift she gave you
what remains of the life you had before me
and the love you had before me
you still do
i only have my
the temporary escape
as cheap as a six-pack of mood-cooler
the windows of the house at the street's end
were already lit
i wonder what kind of stories
are going on behind them
do they read like mine
feel like mine
do they make somebody cry
there are so many things i do not know
where we are
where we are going
where we are meant to be
it is here
that will soon reunite me with
my lonely nightmares
there are times
when all i need is a certain
that will send me away
in a flash
so i do not have to look back
so i do not have to worry
of what might follow
one thirty-seven in a monday afternoon
and i am just waiting
for that trigger
that day, the world was beautiful because of you,
but i, long before the dawn, knew there would be no hope
in staying, and yes, i think you are my world
when i am with you. but that is not the point,
that is not the point at all. the origin of our feelings
had nothing to do with where we were going,
nothing to do with the saddest of days and nights,
and the tears that we shed at the wrong times,
and the loving words we spoke at the few times
when we thought we were in love. there were moments
and there were others. i could not carry you at all times
in my conscience. do you understand? i do not hate you, no,
it is quite the contrary. much so quite the contrary.
i do not need anybody else in the name of fairness
and common sense. but i do want you. times when i
thought everything was coming to an end i
thought of you, wanting to rush to you and say
"i love you" exactly how i used to wish someone,
just one, only one, would say it to me.
but the current of life and this shameful desire to live
always dragged me back, not letting me leave.
i do not mean to make you wait until the lights go off
to bare my soul to you,
to overwhelm you with undivided attention
(not the kind i have always given you in our presence,
but one that gives you the strongest sense of eternity,
the only time when death loses its charm and power.)
i do not mean to bring those tears upon your eyes.
but grief makes a person whom he is
while happiness makes him whom he thinks he wants to be.
are you whom you want to be? are you when i am holding you tight
in my arms, hearing my breath pacing against your heartbeats?
when i am with you
i am not whom i am or whom i want to be
but exactly what i must be if life is real, and death is also real,
and nothing else matters but the truth of you.
you asked me with tears down at your throat how i felt about you
how i truly felt about you, not how i thought you would want to be perceived. so here it is.
i am sorry that there are and always will be
disappointments. but disappointments, more often than not,
are so much needed for us not to lose touch with our truest feelings,
don't you think?
"why can you spend so much time
writing all this sappy bullcrap
but cannot study hard
to get good
math teacher, senior high school.-
"why do you write such good poetry
but suck so bad
acquantainces/maybe friends, anygradeinanyschool.-
your poetry sounds pretty good
what you are trying
writing instructor, free elective course, college.-
"your poetry is really good
for someone whose first language is
"you are good at writing poetry,
but besides that,
you just seem clueless
most of the time
you cannot hear
what i say
nor can you understand
much of it.
it seems like
you are lost
in your own world,
have conversation with me
in your head."
i want to blame all these people
for making me think
i must be really good
for i hardly am
in anything else
flows peacefully over me
as i sink further
from the surface of the sea
you of the beauty that cuts through my heart
you of a million years i have been waiting
not having known i would finally meet you
you of the last melody that brought me to tears
i always thought i could no longer cry
i never imagined
i would love someone like you
love anyone the way i loved you
i would ever dream of the ocean
and its waves of the darkest moments
i would have lost
my final argument
had the first light of dawn caught my eyes
felt so kind
unlike other emotions that i
i am sorry
i never told you
it was my last kiss
i could ever give
i am sorry
i could not have given you all of me
though i devoted to you more of me
than i possibly could have to any soul
alive or dead
how could you ever
belong to this world
i missed you so terribly
i almost turned around
to run into your arms
but there was no star out tonight
to guide me back to you
will always be
and my only
take me back
to where I do not belong
take me away
from where I do not belong
*edited on Jan 29, 2011 - as suggested by jermaine. Thank you for your input.
take me back to where I do not belong
and never release me again.
take me away from where I do not belong
and never bring me back.
the same thing.
please have mercy.
make your decision
I read the words of others to collect the necessary mentality of strength to know how to deal with you,
because you love me and I love you, but in the event where both of us seem to lose touch with the earth
I need help to catch up with my falling soul and to fight the tricks it has against me,
so we could eventually be saved and sent off to the next round of uncertainties
in this episode of brutal love, one that claims itself to be the last in both of our lives,
only to see us almost left dead on the dried ground of emotions
under the sky that has been missing its rains of reason
for a very long time.
at the junction
of the past and the present
they closed their eyes
and kissed each other
I like sleeping with your arm under my head,
you holding me close to the skin above your heart,
occasionally running your fingers through my hair.
Sometimes I turn away from you
only to enjoy more the warmth of your embrace from behind my back.
I like it when you rest your head over my chest.
I love the way our fingers intertwine.
I like breathing in your familiar scent.
I like sensing your presence around me
especially when I first open my eyes in the morning
to see you right there.
Many times the comfort makes me not want to wake up,
so I could stay right by your side for a little longer, and a little longer.
I wish those moments had extended into eternity
as long as eternity involves you,
as long as your heart involves me.
Tonight, once again, just seems like a very silly joke
with me lying on my bed without you next to me.
How am I going to feel in the morning
if my heart already aches this way at night?
I want to crawl back into your arms.
Sleep like a baby with you.
I want to feel you as my world,
one completely separated from the one that is separating us.
I see a train coming fast enough
I will not